Page 9 of A Wulver for the Week (Pine Ridge Universe)

I ’m running down the beach, bouncing like a bikini-clad centerfold. The sky is warm and sunny one second and cold and moonlit the next. My pink bikini is blood red, and so is the cape I’m wearing.

Little Red Riding Hood.

Only something catches my cape and yanks me to the sand, landing on my hands and knees.

I crane my neck to look back over my shoulder I see a dark gray-black wolf with golden, glittering eyes and a hungry smile. “What do you want?” I demand, struggling to get free.

Paws are on my back. Massaging. My knees give out and I sprawl, face down.

Craig?

Craig is no wolf! He’s a kind, gentle soul.

“What do you want, Minerva?” The guttural, growling voice has an accent that I know.

But it’s not him. It’s not him.

“Who are you?” I gasp, managing to turn over. The paws plant themselves on my shoulders now.

“That’s the wrong line. You don’t ask questions. You tell me what you want,” he repeats, the hungry smile so much broader now, a lolling pink tongue in the center.

“What big teeth you have,” I whisper.

“All the better to eat you with, my dear. If you want me to... go down?”

“Craig?” I cry, and that’s the last thing I say because the wolf—with hands like a man’s but a wolf’s head—pries apart my thighs and rips my skimpy swimsuit bottom to shreds with sharp teeth. I shudder, but not in fear, legs wrapping around his shoulders. I feel him devouring me. Eating me with long licks that make my whole body clench and my legs tingle like electric shocks are running through me, lighting me up from the inside.

And then I wake up, drowsy and caught in a shaft of golden light, sprawled in a bikini against Craig’s pale, perfect chest, my hand stirring sleepy circles in the dark crest of hair at the center.

What happened?

Moonlight. Massage.

His voice.

Sleeping. Dreaming.

Daylight.

“I never gave you that massage,” I murmur.

“‘S all right.”

“I want to.” Yep. Fuzzy morning brain tells me two things—I should go pee, and I want to keep touching this man. For the moment, my bladder loses.

Mm, go on, sweetheart,” Craig rolls to his side, burrowing my head into his chest.

God, I never thought a man could smell so good first thing in the morning, but he does. Our almost naked bodies press together, seeking warmth and sleepy comfort.

But I want the wolf from my dream, too. I want sweet, considerate Craig and the ravenous wolfman who pinned me to the sand. I shudder as I dig my hands into Craig’s back, starting a lazy rub down that makes him groan.

Growl.

I’m suddenly transported back into my dream, feeling the wolfman’s tongue pressing so deep inside of me that I feel my insides tighten and squeeze, trapping him against the hidden sweet spot no man ever seems to find.

My bikini bottom must be saturated with arousal by now, but some sex-starved part of me doesn’t care, raising my leg to drape over Craig’s hip as I continue to massage him while I nestle in his arms.

“Smell divine. Sweet gardenia.” Craig grinds drowsily against me, and my mouth dries out.

Craig. Is. Big. Biiiig. Not necessarily “you’ll never walk right again” big, but at least “usually only found in silicone” big.

With a grunt, he rolls completely on top of me, kissing me hard, hands tangling in my hair. His erection rubs against my crotch, stimulating my needy clit and making me consider very bad things.

Like slipping my suit to the side and his boxers down, then seeing if he’ll slip inside and make my eyes roll back.

“Want to eat you all up, my pretty flower.”

Eat me up? Wait. Am I still dreaming?

I MUST BE DREAMING . I have my sweet, tasty morsel between my teeth. Her scent surrounds me. Her lips on mine, our tongues sparring as my cock probes about, looking for the wet, tight entrance where I belong.

Except... That seems off. Somehow. Shouldn’t we have talked about this?

We would have. It’s a dream.

Damn it.

I blink myself awake and almost bite down on the skillful roving tongue jousting with mine.

Not a dream! Holy shit, not a dream! But maybe it would be better if it was?

I roll away and huddle up, hoping my cock isn’t on display, peeping out of my baggy boxers. Best pretend it was a dream. I was asleep, wasn’t I? She was, too, I’m sure.

God, I knew we shouldn’t have shared a bed...

“Morning, sleepy head,” Minnie’s voice is soft, and her hand taps my shoulder.

“Hm? Oh, morning.” I sit up too fast, and the room spins. I pull the comforter up over my lap. “Oh. You’re already dressed for the beach day, I see.” I manage a smile. “Been up long?”

“Hm? Oh, I fell asleep like this. I think I’ll just... hop in the shower and throw on my beach cover-up. Maybe I’d better put on my other suit. A two-piece on this body—”

“Is fucking perfect,” I growl as I watch her stroll away, thick but proportionate hips begging me to grab them and bend her over the nearest surface.

“Craig!”

“I’m an honest man,” I chuckle. Just don’t ask me if I was asleep or awake when I was about to split your sweet pussy in two. “Now, hurry up. I can already hear a crowd on the beach.”

I CHANGE INTO MY DARK turquoise one-piece, and Craig changes into navy trunks. “You might want to leave your pinky ring in the room,” I advise, unfastening my small gold hoops.

Craig hesitates. “Aye, probably. But it’s a bit stuck. It’d take more than a good swim or a sandcastle competition to pry it free.”

“Sandcastle competition?” I ask.

Craig points out the window.

It looks like a carnival on the beach side of the resort. A huge white banner proclaiming Barry and Gerri Get Married! is strung between two palms. Photographers are taking pictures of every couple in both families under a heart-shaped bower. The younger members of the family are having a sandcastle competition next to corn hole and giant checkers. My uncles and Barry’s male relatives are already in deck chairs buried half in the water with fishing poles at their sides. If I crane my neck, I can see the pool with its floating bar is already doing a brisk business at 10 AM.

“You go and do your fishing this morning,” I encourage. “I’ll help with whatever it is bridesmaids should help with.”

“Are you sure? Your family won’t think we’re estranged or something?”

“Not at all. I hope.”

“I’ll hover adoringly,” Craig offers, his smile wide.

So wide. Too wide.

Tipsy. Tired. Sun in my eyes, maybe. “What a big smile you have,” I murmur, mostly to myself.

To my surprise, Craig backs away, looking flustered. “Big? Too big?”

“Just... different. Maybe I’m imagining things.”

“What kind of things? About last night? Because I—”

“No, no. Nothing about you. Well. Kind of about you. Last night.” I wrap my hair in a matching gauzy bandana, keeping my curls pulled back from my forehead. I can’t help noticing how Craig’s eyes watch my every move, how he studies my curves as I deliberately lean into them, one hip thrust out, chest pushed forward as I give an exaggerated stretch when I’m done.

“You can tell me.” His voice is soft. Low.

Almost a growl. A soft growl, like from a sleepy animal shifting position and cautioning you that you’re getting too near. The growl. The golden eyes. The wide smile.

Too wide.

Little Red never wanted to climb in that bed with the wolf, did she?

Maybe she did. Maybe she wanted a little nip of something big and bad before she settled for basic and boring, marching along the right path.

“Did I do something? Minerva, you have to tell me if I did. I don’t know what it is, but by God, I didn’t mean it.” Craig grabs my shoulder suddenly, his reflexes so fast that they outpace mine—me, a veteran nurse who is used to dodging psychotic patients and understands the need for speed.

“You were a wolf in my dream,” I gasp, startled by his hard grip and the way my body responds to it.

His hand drops and his mouth opens. “A wolf?”

“Like a wolfman. Not an animal wolf,” I clarify, wishing he’d grab me again.

“Oh. A nightmare. Sorry, Minnie. I... I mean, I don’t know what I was doin’ in your dream like that.” His face is conflicted—and for the first time in my life, I’m aware of something.

I know Craig is handsome, I know he’s got the gorgeous hair and the manly-man beard—but for the first time ever, I notice how Craig’s face seems to blur the longer and harder I stare.

“You can’t help how you are in someone else’s dream,” I whisper, reaching out to touch his cheek. My hand connects with soft, thick hair. Almost like fur.

His beard, dummy. That’s all.

“Was it a nightmare?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

“Nope. Not all.”

“Minnie, I—”

“Minerva! Your mama is about to have a conniption!” Cora’s loud voice suddenly makes me jump as a hand hammers on my door. “You missed the mimosa breakfast. If you miss the Groom’s Side vs. Bride’s Side beach volleyball game, she’s going to disown you!”

“Be right there, Cora!” I shout back.

Craig draws away, letting out a long, shuddering breath. “We’d better go. You play volleyball?”

“Badly, but I’m kinda tall.”

“I’ll play. We’ll nail ‘em!” Craig says, grabbing his beach towel and one of the complimentary water bottles in our mini fridge. He grabs several for me, too, even though I’m sure a place like this has strolling beach waiters or something.

“Sounds good, partner!” I smile.

But when he turns his back, I bite my lip and smother a moan, remembering the hazy, half-asleep passion we shared and wishing I hadn’t woken up before Red Riding Hood took a different kind of ride, one between the Big Bad Wolfman’s thighs.

I WOULD COUNT THIS as one of the grandest days of my life.

Minerva playing volleyball is something I would give my life savings to watch on a daily basis. Watching her smile and laugh with her family is something I will always cherish, especially because I think I’m part of it. Without me here as her cover, her family might give her a hard time about being single.

Back in our room to dress for dinner, I call through the bathroom door, “Did anyone interrogate you about your love life?”

“Not a peep!” she shouts back. “You?”

“Between fishing, volleyball, swimming, and tug of war, no one had any breath left to bother,” I laugh, hoping my attire of pale salmon shirt and khaki pants is the right choice for tonight’s fireside luau.

“My dad is going fishing tomorrow with Barry’s dad and uncles. They’re taking out one of the resort’s chartered fishing boats while the girls in the bridal party hit the Reflections Spa. You’ll have time to actually enjoy yourself tomorrow.”

Minnie emerges from the bathroom in a palm green summer dress that stays up as if by magic. No straps. A slit that slides all the way up her thigh. Her hair is swirled up in a single golden clip.

“I’m enjoying myself right now,” I say, my eyes drinking in every inch.

“Flatterer.”

“Not at all.”

We stand close together, her eyes sliding up and down my outfit as I gaze at her. Unless I’m mistaken, our faces wear twin expressions of matching hunger.

“Want to take a walk in the moonlight after dinner?” Minnie asks suddenly, breaking the spell weaving between us.

“Absolutely.”